


Withdrawal

by littlehollyleaf



Category: Odyssey 5
Genre: Drugs, Episode Related, F/M, Friendship, Gen or Pre-Slash, Light Bondage, M/M, Missing Scene, kurt is a gentleman - shockingly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-11
Updated: 2011-01-11
Packaged: 2018-09-15 15:56:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9242936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlehollyleaf/pseuds/littlehollyleaf
Summary: Set during 'Rapture.' Just howdidNeil come to be tied to Kurt's bed...?





	

**Author's Note:**

> I am a bad, bad, fickle person. I'm sorry! I wasn't going to! I like Kurt/Angela and I haven't even finished the series yet or delved NEARLY enough into the show and its characters to fully understand them. But then there was THAT scene, and Sebastian is so fucking ALLURING, and I couldn't get this out of my head! Not up to my usual standards I think, but at least the bunny should stop nibbling at me now...

**Withdrawal**

"As long as the ties that bind us together are stronger than those that would tear us apart, all will be well." ~ Narcotics Anonymous

 

Kurt was cooking up an aphrodisiac when the call came. Yes, there was a dangerous Sentient-made drug loose on the black market, but that was no reason to cancel his dinner plans. Oysters don't have a long shelf life, you know.

He didn't give out his mobile number to many people these days, though, which put the odds at ten to one that the call was important. So he lowered his expensive Sabatier knife with a sigh, slid the prepared fish neatly along his chopping board and reached across the counter for a dishcloth.

Wiping his hands as he walked he skirted the kitchen area and picked up his phone from where he'd left it on the sofa. He flipped it open and balanced it between his ear and his shoulder, for once grateful for the clunky, old-fashioned model as he continued to clean his hands while speaking.

"Hello?"

No reply. Just deep, rasping breath on the other end of the line.

Kurt rolled his eyes.

"Really, darling, the heavy breathing technique is already old. Let's just skip the intimidation and cut to the chase shall we? Who is this? What do you want?"

The breathing hitched and turned shallow but wasn't more forthcoming. Kurt pursed his lips. Despite his bravado, he was under no misapprehensions - this could be serious. It could be their anonymous friend, or foe, with new information. Or worse, it could be a Sentient working on tracking him down that very moment - an open line might be just what they needed. He was on the verge of hanging up when a cracking, broken voice started up.

"Kurt. Hey..."

Kurt frowned.

"Neil?"

"Uh huh," the younger man croaked back.

Now why would Neil be phoning...? Kurt's expression cleared.

"Ah. You got the drug sample?"

"Yup, I, ah..." Neil answered. "Listen. About that... Just how pure do you need this stuff?"

Kurt stopped drying his hands and turned stock still, a nasty suspicion forming in his mind.

"Why?" he asked slowly.

"Because, say... hypothetically... if you had to take it out of someone's blood stream. Would that be... err... would that be good enough?"

"Shit."

Kurt threw the cloth onto the sofa and grabbed the phone with his right hand, his left snatching up his car keys from the coffee table.

"Where are you?"

~*~

An hour or so later Kurt was navigating a shaky, pasty Neil through his front door. He took his hands away just long enough to lock the door behind them, but even in that short time the kid managed to sway dangerously close to the ground.

"Whoa!" Kurt muttered as he turned back, grabbing Neil round the middle. "Let's get you settled down somewhere shall we?"

He half walked, half dragged Neil over to the bed. Soft mattress and pillows were better suited to this situation than leather sofas. High priced leather sofas that did not suffer blood or vomit stains easily.

Kurt kicked the small table at the end of the mattress away and sat Neil down. That way if he did start to fall it would most likely be backwards onto a nice, plump, chequered duvet.

"I feel like crap," Neil moaned. "And my eyes hurt," he added, rubbing them with his knuckles.

Kurt moved round the apartment without a word, drawing curtains and flicking off lights and lamps, then came back and squatted down in front of the other man.

"That's withdrawal, darling," he said, pulling Neil's hands from his face before he rubbed his eyes out of their sockets. "It's kicking in a lot sooner than normal, but then what do you expect? We know nothing about this drug or its effects. Clearly they're accelerated compared to regular narcotics. Really not one of your better plans." He sighed. "But then, you are a Taggart. 'Gung-ho' is your family motto no doubt."

Neil tried to glare at him, but his eyes were so bleary and raw it just looked pathetic.

"Can I get a drink?"

Kurt gave the young man's shoulder another squeeze and stood up. Neil stayed upright, which was promising. It looked like this would be a rough ride for the kid, but he was strong and Kurt was confident he'd get through it.

In the meantime, they had a Sentient plot to thwart.

"Blood sample first," he said briskly, hurrying off to find a syringe. "We don't want to risk contaminating the drug further than it might have been already."

Neil closed his eyes with another moan, but he didn't complain. Kurt liked that about him. Unlike the others Neil didn't judge, didn't criticise Kurt's manner or the way he chose to live his life, he just let Kurt get on with it.

"Right," Kurt nodded when he got back, hypodermic in hand. "You'll need to roll up your sleeve."

Neil did better than that and pulled off his jacket, albeit it somewhat sluggishly, exposing a thin black T-shirt beneath. He gave a soft sigh of relief once the denim was off him, like he'd been too hot in it, and Kurt wondered if he was feverish.

He'd have to worry about that later, though, because first things first - Kurt perched on the small table he'd shoved aside earlier and quickly drew a blood sample from Neil's arm. The younger man didn't flinch or even hiss as the needle went in - too out of it, Kurt supposed. Which was bad. It meant they had a long way to go before the stuff flushed itself out of his system. Honestly, damn Taggarts and their John Wayne mentality.

"I'll just stash this somewhere safe, then we'll make you a nice, strong cup of black coffee, hmmm?" He smiled encouragingly, but Neil only nodded in return, gazing into the distance.

Well, Kurt thought as he rested the sample on the bedside table, sick as a parrot Neil might be, but it least that meant he wasn't going to be any trouble.

Famous last words.

"Holly..." Neil muttered. "I left her car. I need to go."

And in a flash he was up on his feet and rushing to the door.

"Oh no, I don't think so!" Kurt called hurrying after him. He ran in front of the kid and held out a hand. Neil stopped, just, but leant bodily forward, forcing Kurt to bring his other hand up and hold the younger man by force. "Holly's car is fine," he muttered, pushing Neil back. "We can get it later."

"No... no. Something might happen to it," Neil insisted, growing more agitated. "She'll kill me. Let me out of here!"

"Neil, _no_ ," Kurt grunted, pushing Neil hard in the chest as he surged forward again. "You're in no condition to be going anywhere, you know that."

But Neil's eyes were wide, breath coming in harsh pants. Ample experience of addiction from his own wild youth had Kurt easily identifying the signs, but to see them so soon was a shock. Neil had taken the drug barely two hours ago, if anything he should still be riding the high, not craving a new fix. Perhaps he was wrong?

"Get off me, damn it!" Neil snapped, cementing Kurt's hypothesis. The two of them weren't quite wartime comrades, but they'd spent enough time together for Kurt to consider himself friend enough not to be resisted when he was trying to help.

No. The concern for his girlfriend's car was bullshit - Neil wanted out for one reason and one reason only, and that was to score another hit. Kurt needed to lock the kid down somehow before he hurt himself, or anyone else.

It was just hard to think logically with the amount of adrenaline racing its way though his system - the result of pure and simple _fear_ at the thought of Neil taking another dose. The drug was obviously far more potent than anything man-made and Kurt wasn't sure his friend would survive ingesting any more.

Plus, Chuck would fucking kill _him_ if Kurt let his son overdose.

If he could just get him back on the bed.

"No! Neil, just -"

Lacking a better idea, he pushed Neil harder. A fruitless endeavour any other time, probably, considering Neil was younger and fitter, but luck and debilitating narcotics were on Kurt's side and Neil stumbled back. Kurt took advantage and pressed forward, urging Neil all the way to the bed.

It wasn't until the back of his shins hit the mattress that Neil seem to clue in to what was going on and his face screwed up in frustration.

"Goddamn it, Kurt!"

He started forward again, but Kurt pushed him back. He'd intended for Neil to drop onto his back, hoping the disorientation from the fall would give him enough time to restrain the younger man somehow. Only Neil grabbed Kurt's wrists before he could pull away and the two of them ended up tumbling down together, Kurt landing on Neil's chest with a loud 'oof!'

Brilliant.

Kurt raised his head, trying to figure out how to untangle himself while making sure Neil stayed put. Neil's face was inches from his own and Kurt startled as he watched it break into a goofy smile. Then Neil dropped back and burst into laughter. Rather too crazed to be entirely healthy, true, but definitely not malevolent.

"Whoops!" he chirped, high-pitched and excitable, and Kurt couldn't help smiling back. He'd always imagined Neil as a happy drunk - this was probably more like he was when intoxicated the regular way.

Was this how the stuff worked then? Not a simple up and down but continually fluctuating? Violent cravings interspersed with pleasure?

"Yes, whoops," Kurt agreed. Anything to get Neil's mind off leaving. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, yeah," Neil answered. "I'm just a little..." He released Kurt's hands and slid one of his own up between them to his forehead. "Head rush. You know?"

He blinked a few times and turned to press his cheek into the mattress, eyes closing at the feel of the cool fabric. Kurt sympathised - he'd tried to alleviate enough hangovers in the same way.

"This is a nice bed..." Neil murmured, rubbing a hand up and down it.

"Yes," Kurt nodded, a breath of relief escaping with the word. Sensory fixation - Neil was back to tripping again. Which was manageable at least. Now if the bedcover could just prove a sizeable distraction for a while longer...

Kurt started to push himself up.

But Neil grabbed the collar of his shirt very suddenly, propping himself up with his other hand and pulling Kurt close.

"How many women have you fucked on this bed, huh?" he whispered, rushed and urgent, like the answer might be the solution to all their problems.

The question surprised a chuckle out of Kurt, it was so out of the blue, and he thanked all the gods he didn't believe in that the answer _wasn't_ their salvation, because he'd be damned if he could remember.

"A gentleman doesn't kiss and tell," he answered with a flick of his eyebrows.

Neil laughed again, calmer this time.

"Then you should have taken an ad out in the paper or something already," he grinned.

Kurt grinned back at the tease and made a note to get Neil high the proper way some time. Providing the narcotics were mellow enough it sounded like it might be fun.

"Charming," he responded, moving a hand to twist Neil's out of his shirt. Except Neil was uncurling it himself, lifting his palm to the side of Kurt's face and stroking his fingertips across the skin, over and over.

"Seriously, though," Neil pressed. "What is it about you that's so fucking desirable?"

His fingers dropped down to trace Kurt's chin, flicking back and forth across the stubble there, and Kurt decided the wisest course of action was to accept the caress. If the feel of the bedcovers had been dismissed in favour of the feel of Kurt then so be it. Any port in a storm, as it were.

"Just what is it, huh?" Neil whispered, cupping Kurt's chin. This close Kurt could feel heat coming off the younger man in waves. _Definitely_ feverish. Neil leaned closer, the heat intensified and -

The kiss was so unexpected it took a moment for Kurt to even register it was happening.

"Ha!" he gasped, jerking away, the salty taste of Neil's sweat still on his lips. "Neil, I don't think -"

"What?" Neil shrugged, trying to lean in again. Kurt grabbed his hands and held him back. Fortunately, the younger man still seemed too weak to fight. "Come on, I just wanna see what all the fuss is about. What are you afraid of? Is it cos I'm underage? Because I'm twenty-fucking-two damn it!"

"Your age has nothing to do with it, darling," Kurt explained calmly. "It's the thought of the horror on your face when you sober up and remember this."

Neil's nose scrunched up, lines creasing into his forehead and emphasising the beads of sickly sweat forming there. A strange rush of affection made Kurt want to wipe the moisture and furrows away.

"What do you know about who I am and what I want?" Neil snapped.

"I know you have a girlfriend, who you positively dote on," Kurt pointed out.

Neil rolled his eyes.

"Yeah. A girlfriend who thinks I'm lame. And no fun. And who chose a fucking Sentient drug over me -"

Ah. So that's what the sudden turn to pastures new was about. Yet more trouble in paradise. His advice those weeks ago about how Neil should go ahead and take an early shot at sleeping with the girl clearly hadn't been followed.

"- I just..." Neil managed to break free of Kurt's hold and gripped the older man's collar again with both hands, using the hold to balance himself. "I'm losing her, Kurt. And I don't - I don't know what to do. Tell me what to do." He leant forward again, voice turning high and plaintive. "Show me what to do to keep her."

Neil's breath fell hot and sweet against Kurt's skin and Kurt smiled. Hmmm, perhaps he could use this. Yes. A little bit of innocent experimentation. What harm could it do?

"Alright," he nodded, holding close. "Alright. If you stay here, I'll show you some tricks."

"Yeah?" Neil asked, sounding absurdly excited by the prospect, red-rimmed eyes lighting up like a kid's at Christmas.

In answer Kurt pressed forward and claimed the other man's mouth, licking the salt off Neil's lips before plunging in and caressing inside. He felt more than heard Neil's whimper and smiled against the younger man's skin as he kissed back, all youthful energy and enthusiasm, hands rushing up to Kurt's face to draw him in deeper.

Despite the hold, it was Kurt who kept control, guiding Neil's tongue where he wanted it and neatly pressing the other man's lips together to bring them to an end. He curled his fingers round the ones at his face and gently pulled Neil away.

"Now," Kurt instructed. "You stay here. I'll be right back to show you the rest."

"Hmm-hmmm..." Neil murmured, eloquently, as Kurt pushed off the bed. The kid's eyes were closed and that goofy smile was back on his face.

Kurt side-stepped towards the closet on the far side of the kitchen, keeping a close eye on Neil all the way. The younger man didn't move.

"Stay there," Kurt called again for good measure before opening the door and rummaging inside, hoping hard that Neil wouldn't make a run for it while his back was turned. "You're still there, aren't you?" he yelled over his shoulder, cursing under his breath as he moved pots and pans and various sexual toys and camera equipment along shelves and out of the way.

"Yeah, I'm here," Neil assured him. "I'm waiting."

"A-ha!" Kurt grinned in triumph, finally laying hands on what he'd been looking for.

He turned back and Neil raised his eyebrows at the length of thick, industrial rope stretched across the older man's arms, a flash of apprehension crossing his face.

"Seriously?"

"Oh, drives the ladies wild, darling. Trust me," Kurt insisted, walking quickly back. "Here, let me show you."

He motioned for Neil to sit forward, which he did, and lay the rope out behind him, the ends of it trailing off either side of the bed. Then he moved to Neil's right, picked up the loose end there and made a 'come hither' gesture with his free palm.

"Give me your arm," he said, nice and casual.

When Neil hesitated Kurt just shrugged, like it was no big deal, and the older man had to bite back a smirk when Neil smiled back and stretched out his arm in response. Ah, reverse psychology, you little minx.

Kurt wrapped a length of the rope round Neil's wrist, easy and slow so the kid wasn't spooked, then moved round to do the same on Neil's other side.

"Lie back," he nodded with a wink and Neil dropped down obediently, lips curving at the corners. Kurt was actually quite touched by the trust.

Once Neil was settled on the pillows, Kurt took one of the still trailing ends of rope and crawled with it under the bed. He reached out under there and grabbed the other loose end and brought them together, twisting and tying until they were thoroughly knotted, then crawled out.

"Not too tight are they?" he asked, rubbing his hands together to clear off the dust they'd acuminated as he looked over Neil's outstretched form.

Neil tugged his arms, testing the restraints.

"Nah," he shook his head. "They're good."

"Excellent."

There was a pause as the two of them stared at each other. The younger man really did make a pretty picture and Kurt had a sudden vision of the moment captured on canvas, Neil's swollen, tempting lips and lithe, pale arms immortalised in oils under the title 'jailbait.'

"So... what now?" Neil grinned.

He looked so eager Kurt was almost sorry to disappoint him. Almost sorry to disappoint _himself_. But despite what people might think, he did have _some_ morals, and taking advantage of a drugged-up friend just wasn't his style.

"Now," he answered, patting his pockets. "Now," he continued, pulling his phone out of the right-hand side of his jeans and pointing with it. "We call your father, and get you off this shit."

He flipped the phone open and searched through the memory for Chuck's number.

"Wh - _What?!_ " Neil exclaimed, smile dropping as he struggled immediately against his bonds.

When that didn't work he started to thrash his legs against the mattress and Kurt turned away, lifting the phone to his ear.

He tried to convince himself it was so he could hear Chuck better when he answered, but deep down he knew it was more than that, knew it was because the thought of seeing Neil lost and out of control was making him queasy. Because, of all of them, Neil was the fresh one, the innocent one, and it wasn't fair the way this Sentient crap was corrupting him.

He still had to listen though, could still hear his comparatively new, unexpected and yet, yes, _good_ friend spitting obscenities at him. Considering Kurt had been expecting it, the words hurt far more than they should have.

"I hate you, Kurt, you fucking bastard!" Neil yelled, finally managing to bring his curses into some kind of order.

Kurt gave a dry bark of laughter, focusing on the shrill, electronic ringing in his ear.

"Yes," he muttered. "That's what they all say, in the end."

~*~

Neil opted to stick around in the diner the next day, once their latest official-unofficial meeting was over, Holly and the other kids recovering from their ordeal in intensive care and the body of Neil's friend Deckard, or what was left of it, retrieved for his grieving parents. Another sacrifice to their mission, another life, like Ed Scrivens', snuffed out before its time because of their interference with the timestream.

Bollocks to it. Fucking bollocks.

Kurt was sure saving the world should feel _better_ than this.

Chuck gave his son an anxious look as he got up to leave - or what passed as anxious for Chuck 'stoic' Taggart anyway - but Neil waved him off, claiming to want more coffee. Plausible. The kid was still pale and shaky - although the sickly sheen to his skin had gone now, thank fuck - and it looked like something hot and caffeinated would probably do him the world of good.

Kurt knew a brave face when he saw one, though. They all did. All grown masters at them in their own way since the leap back.

Which meant they also knew when someone needed to be left alone, of course.

So while it had hurt to do it, one by one they'd left Neil behind to find his own way to cope, to figure out how to move on from the loss of his friend and just possibly his girlfriend as well.

Kurt was last. He'd taken the seat next to Neil - all the better to examine him and make sure all traces of withdrawal had faded - and had to wait until the others were gone before he could get up and walk around the table.

He pressed a light hand to the younger man's hunched over shoulder as he passed, wanting to give some comfort, some kind of physical assurance that regular sessions like these had shown him Chuck would never offer, even though Kurt knew he wanted to, and that Neil would never ask for, even though he longed for it like nothing else. Yes, Neil's bitter accusations back at the loft about the favouritism Chuck showed his elder son, Mark, had more than proved how much Neil ached for approval and respect from his father, but even though Chuck had heard it all it hadn't changed a damn thing. Fucking Taggart's.

"Kurt, wait."

The call back was a surprise and Kurt turned, questioning, hovering by Neil's side at the end of the table.

Neil's still sore but clear again eyes caught his gaze for a moment, then flicked down to the empty coffee cup in his hands, fingers circling idly around the polystyrene rim.

"Listen. Um. About before. I..." Neil struggled.

Ah, of course. The sexuality crisis. It was bound to come sooner or later.

Kurt waved a hand.

"Don't worry about it," he cut in, dismissive. "It's forgotten. You weren't yourself, Neil. I understand."

Neil glanced up, the light tap of fingers against his cup betraying a continuing uncertainty.

"So. We're good? You're sure?" he pressed.

Kurt bit down the urge to mock the Americanism. This wasn't the time.

"Of course," he answered firmly. "And don't concern yourself about repercussions. I don't kiss and tell, remember."

He smirked, trying to ease the younger man's fears by making light of the thing. But Neil's eyebrows pressed down.

"What -?" he started, then broke off with half a smile of his own, turning away with a shake of his head. "Oh, right. That. Fuck, I'd forgotten..."

Kurt blinked. Forgotten? It had seemed pretty damn memorable to him, personally. But if it wasn't the kiss Neil was fretting about, then what -?

"I didn't mean that," Neil continued, face sobering, gaze fixing on the dregs at the bottom of his cup. "I meant, you know, all that crap I was yelling at you." He bit his lip. "And dad," he added as an after thought. "I'm sorry. I don't... I don't really think about you like that."

Kurt opened his mouth but found himself lost for words. It wasn't often he was on the _receiving_ end of an apology.

"Um..." he started eventually. "No apologies necessary. Honestly. Like I said, I understand... and besides, you weren't far wrong." He conjured up another smile with practised ease. "I really am a bastard."

Neil chuckled and the warmth in his gaze when he looked up was enough to make Kurt's smile blossom into the genuine article.

"Well, you're a bastard who probably saved my life yesterday, so thanks."

"Oh, any time, darling," Kurt grinned. "Next time you need tying up just give me a call, I'm your man."

They laughed together, but after a moment the laughter died down and they were still gazing at each other, a kind of thick, syrupy potential filling the air around them.

Until Neil waded through it and slapped Kurt on the arm.

"Yeah, whatever, man," he muttered and the air cleared. "I'll see you around."

Kurt nodded goodbye and headed for the door, paused on reaching it with a sudden urge to turn back and live the moment over again, but ultimately chose to press on. He had enough of the past to be getting on with as it was.

And there was always the future...

 

~ **fin** ~


End file.
